


Crossing The Divide

by pikablob



Category: Hilda (Cartoon)
Genre: Families of Choice, Family Fluff, Gen, Human Twig (Hilda), Post-Episode: s02e09 The Deerfox, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 19:28:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30060408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pikablob/pseuds/pikablob
Summary: After nearly running back to his birth pack, Twig has come to realise his true family is with Hilda and Johanna; wanting to fit in better with them, he goes to Kaisa for help.
Relationships: Hilda & Twig (Hilda), Johanna | Hilda's Mum & Twig (Hilda)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	Crossing The Divide

**Author's Note:**

> Recommended Songs: [It's Me And You](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eGJWxL2BzOU), [King And Lionheart](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N30sBDpUR1Q)

It was long past dark, the moon high in the sky. Hilda was fast asleep, the covers over her rising and falling with her gentle breaths, but Twig couldn’t sleep. He was perched on the end of her bed, watching his favourite human sleep soundly, thoughts and memories of the last few days tumbling through his head.

There was a pang in his chest at the thought he had nearly walked out of her life. He had nearly run away, back to his old pack, and in the end she had accepted he had to go. But they’d both been wrong; he knew now his place wasn’t with his own kind, with a pack who he’d lost the chance to spend his life with, who hadn’t even looked for him, but with the human girl and her mother.

They were his family, he had decided, and he never wanted that to change. He loved Hilda as if she was his own litter-mate. If anything, he saw himself as the older sibling; it was his job to look after her, to keep her safe on her adventures, after all.

But he knew she didn’t quite see him the same way; she loved him, sure, but he was still a pet. He couldn’t hug her when she cried, like her mum did, and she hadn’t understood him when he felt unappreciated. There was still a divide between them; he didn’t fit in with the other deerfoxes, but though being with Hilda was a much better fit, it would never be perfect.

But as he sat there, a way to fix that rose unbidden in his mind. And suddenly he knew just who to ask for help: Hilda’s tall friend, the human with purple hair, who lived at the library. She knew magic, he remembered; she would absolutely be able to help him.

So Twig jumped down off the bed and scurried across the room. He glanced back at Hilda once, still sleeping peacefully, and pushed the bedroom door open with his horns. He was sure he could be back before she woke up.

Determination filled him as he hurried into the kitchen, leaping up onto the counter. His hooves clacked quietly on the countertop; he headed for the window by the sink, bending down to get his horns under the handle and pushing it open with his head. Cold night air wafted in from outside, the wind ruffling his fur, and as he looked out over the roofs of Trolberg he could just make out the spire of the library rising in the distance.

His course was clear. With one final glance back, Twig leapt out of the window, onto the roof. Under the stars he slipped down to street level, and off into the night. He knew what he had to do.

* * *

Kaisa was just about done for the day. She had finished up reshelving, setting everything back in its place, so she was taking some time to relax and catch up on the news before she locked up the library and headed home. She was leaning up against one of the ground-floor windows, engrossed in her reading.

The sound of tapping on the glass behind her, rapid and insistent, snapped her attention away. She turned around, feeling a spike of irritation before her gaze settled on the culprit. A small deerfox; Hilda’s, she was sure; was perched on the windowsill, pawing at the glass with one black hoof.

Not quite sure what else she was meant to do, Kaisa lifted the latch and let the window swing open. Immediately the creature leapt through, down to her feet. As she shut the window again it started yapping, circling around her feet, something insistent in its tiny voice.

“Um, hello?” she asked; it was clear the deerfox wanted something, but what? It sat down right in front of her, staring up with beady eyes, and yapped again. “Did Hildi send you?”

She wasn’t quite sure why she expected it to understand her, but it seemed to. It tilted its head to one side, then shook it vigorously. She crouched down, bringing their gazes as close to level as she could, not quite sure what to make of this.

“Then… why are you here?” she questioned. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting in return, but the deerfox rose up, climbing up her side with its forelegs, yapping again. “You need me for something?” It nodded. “Can you explain?”

All she got was more yapping, what might just have been frustration in the creature’s voice. Kaisa sighed; she could tell she wasn’t going to get anywhere like this. But as she stood there, trying to think of a solution, one arose in her mind.

The spell for communicating with animals was a simple one, the kind taught to first-year apprentices; it was meant for familiar communication, really, but should have worked with any animal. Even she knew the words for it off by heart. So she drew her wand and stood up; the deerfox dropped back to a sitting position expectantly, watching with sudden interest as she psyched herself up for a spell.

 _“Prata med djur!”_ she declared, the tip of her want lighting up with a purple glow. For a second the deerfox’s eyes glowed the same colour, before it shook its head, and she knew the spell had been a success. “There,” Kaisa said with a smile; bending down again. “Now I can understand you.”

The deerfox yapped again. In Kaisa’s mind the voice of a young child echoed, loud and insistent, almost a little desperate. _“Help Twig!”_

“And you are Twig, then?” she asked. He nodded.

 _“Need help for Hilda,”_ he barked. And suddenly she was sure, somehow, that this was incredibly important to him. She reached out, gently petting the creature’s head. He leaned into her touch.

“Well,” she said softly, “if it’s for Hildi, then I’d be glad to help. What do you need me to do?”

Falteringly, awkwardly, he explained. As a deerfox he had no real need or understanding of sentences; his barks and yips came out as blunt words in her head, translated as best her magic could. More than once he stumbled, not knowing the word for something human-related, and the magic failed to patch the gap. But by the end she understood exactly what he wanted, and why it was so important for him and Hilda.

Which was why what Kaisa had to say next was so painful. “I’m afraid I can’t do that,” she admitted, looking down.

 _“Why?”_ Twig whimpered. She sighed.

“That’s a very complex spell,” she explained, feeling her chest tighten a little, “and I’m not a very powerful witch.” She felt a pang as his little face fell, beady eyes turning down in disappointment. But as he did, she felt a new idea form; she might not have been able to help Twig, but she was suddenly sure she knew someone who could.

“But,” she said quickly; he froze, suddenly perking up again. “I might know someone who is.”

* * *

In the end Tildy had been more than happy to help, despite the late hour. She had listened with understanding as Kaisa relayed Twig’s predicament, nodding sagely, and then invited them into her house. She had taken them down into her basement, a magically enhanced room far larger than the small house should have been able to fit; Kaisa had spent many training days down there as a young witch.

The spell Twig needed was more complicated than even she had realised. She had helped Tildy set up the necessary circles on the floor, laying out runes and lines with salt on the stone floor. Then had come the spell components, laid out carefully in their places. Twig had eagerly helped with that, dropping off lodestones and rare flowers at Tildy’s directions. And now that it was all ready, he sat in the middle of it all, ready for what came next.

“Alright, Twig,” Tildy began gently, magically floating just in front of him, “that’s everything; all I need to do is say the word.” He nodded. “Just to be clear, dearie; while I can reverse this spell, undoing magic is always more complicated than doing it; if you ever want to go back, it won’t be easy.”

Twig looked around again, eyes going wide as he took in the complexity of the preparations. No doubt he was thinking about how much more complex the reversal spell must be. He nodded his head slowly, understanding.

“And I should warn you,” she continued, “this may be a big change, but it won’t be perfect. I can’t change who you are, so you’ll still have a lot of learning to do on the other side.” Twig nodded again, barking his acceptance. “Oh! And there’s one other thing, now what was it…?” she trailed off, one hand on her chin.

“You have to be completely sure,” Kaisa filled in; she had read over the requirements during their hours of setup. “If you’re not, then the ritual won’t work.”

The deerfox looked over to her, then back up to Tildy, resolve shining in his beady eyes. He met the old witch’s gaze and yapped again.

“You’re absolutely certain this is what you want, dear?” she asked. He nodded; she returned the gesture, reaching inside her jacket for her wand. “Very well; hold still for me?”

Her eyes started to glow. She floated higher, teal energy flowing from her and glowing in the air. The paths of salt surrounding Twig lit up the same colour, particles rising from the circles and glimmering in the air. Tildy spoke again, the glow brightening as she recited the incantation.

 _“Ändra din form.”_ Twig lifted into the air as well, closing his tiny eyes as the magic took hold. _“Bli något nytt.”_ The glow enveloped him, magical energy swallowing his entire form until all Kaisa could see was the vague shadow of a deerfox. _“Bli en människa!”_ The light grew brighter, swallowing even his shadow.

There was a flash of blue-white, so bright that Kaisa had to shield her eyes, and then it all cleared away. When she looked back, she could see the salt circles had been burned black, the flowers incinerated and the lodestones still crackling with magical energy. Tildy landed gently on the edge of the circle, a smile on her face. And in the middle of it all stood Twig. Kaisa couldn’t help grinning; she could already see the spell had been a success.

* * *

“Mum, have you seen Twig anywhere?” Hilda was getting a little worried. The deerfox hadn’t been in his usual spot on her bed when she’d woken up, and after nearly losing him so recently a part of her was still afraid of him running away again.

“Wasn’t he in your room?” Johanna asked. She was halfway through setting the table for breakfast, plates in hand, but at Hilda’s words she set them down and stepped over. Hilda shook her head. “Well,” her mother admitted, “I haven’t seen him all morning; I thought he was still with you.”

“But he wasn’t,” Hilda protested, feeling her concern only grow. “And Alfur hasn’t seen him either! You don’t think he’s run off again, do you?”

Her mother’s expression softened. She reached down, gently ruffling Hilda’s hair reassuringly.

“I don’t think so,” she reassured. “I think Twig’s made up his mind about staying with us; he can’t have gone far. He’s probably still in the house somewhere.”

Hilda nodded, murmuring in agreement, but she didn’t feel convinced. She couldn’t help the worry creeping into her gut. She turned away, her gaze scanning the room in the vain hope that he would somehow appear.

The sudden sound of something on the other side of the apartment’s front door made her stop dead. It wasn’t quite a knocking; it almost sounded like scrabbling, like something was trying to get inside. Johanna heard it too, her gaze turning over to the apartment entrance, but Hilda was moving before she could even react.

The girl was suddenly somehow sure that Twig was out there. She crossed the distance in a moment, reaching up and grabbing the handle. In one move she threw the door wide open, only to freeze as her gaze fell on an unfamiliar shape.

Standing on the threshold was a boy her age, maybe slightly younger. His eyes were small and dark; they reminded her a bit of David’s, and a bit of something else she couldn’t place. His pale face was decorated with dark freckles, scattered over his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, beneath a head of fluffy pure-white hair. He wore a grey sweater, almost white, that was slightly too large for his small frame.

He broke into a grin; before Hilda even had time to react he rushed forwards, throwing his arms around her. For a moment he just clung tightly to her like a limpet, his legs rising up to wrap around her midsection. She wobbled under the weight, not sure what was going on, feeling him nuzzle up against her.

Slowly he released his grip, lowering himself back down, and as he met her gaze again she saw concern rising in those strangely familiar eyes. She stepped back, looking him up and down again.

“Who are you?” she asked softly. He tilted his head to one side, frowning, and then leant forwards again and licked her face.

“Eww,” she couldn’t help saying. But as the word left her mouth it clicked; there was only one person she knew who liked to lick her face, who had hair that white and small dark eyes like that. “Wait, Twig?”

Her voice was quiet, tinged with disbelief; Twig couldn’t have turned himself into a human, could he? But then he nodded frantically, only earnestness in his eyes, and in an instant she was sure.

“Mum!” she called out, looking back to see Johanna watching the scene with confusion. “Mum, this is Twig!”

Twig smiled, nodding again in agreement. He opened his mouth, seemingly trying to speak, but what came out sounded more like a human boy trying to make deerfox noises. He frowned, seemingly frustrated at his struggle to express himself.

“What?” Johanna stepped up beside them, her eyes wide. “Twig? Is that really you?” He nodded again, firmly.

“How did you become a human?” Hilda couldn’t help questioning, feeling excitement take hold. “Is that a thing deerfoxes can do?”

Twig shook his head at that. He frowned again, reaching under his sweater for a moment and rummaging in a trouser pocket. Finally, he produced a crumpled piece of paper, handing it out to Hilda. She took it carefully, unfolding it to reveal a sheet of neat handwriting.

“Do you want me to read this?” He nodded again. Johanna moved around behind her, looking over her shoulder to see, as she started reading out the words.

 _“Dear Hildi,”_ it began, _“last night your deerfox came to me with an unusual request. Using magic, I was able to talk to him; he explained that he sees you as a sister, and your mother as his own, and now that he knows where his place is in the world he wants to properly fit in as part of your family. He wants to be the best brother for you that he can be.”_

Hilda had to stop reading, feeling herself welling up at the words. She looked up from the page, meeting Twig’s gaze; concern rose in his eyes at seeing tears start to form in her own. She stepped forwards, the rest of the letter forgotten.

“Oh Twig,” she couldn’t help saying, opening her arms. “You didn’t have to change yourself to be part of this family, you silly thing. You already were.” He nodded slowly.

 _“But I wanted to,”_ his gaze seemed to say. And suddenly she understood; he didn’t just want to be a pet, a companion; he wanted to be an equal in the family, for her to see him the way he saw her, to be her brother.

She threw her arms around him and he returned the embrace, his own arms tight around her. He pressed his nose up against hers, just like he had as a deerfox, and she couldn’t help letting out an affectionate giggle. She sniffled, tears of happiness starting to run down her face, and gently he licked them away.

She was so caught up in the moment that she didn’t even feel Johanna take the letter from her hand, holding it up to the light to read the rest.

 _“So I had Tildy carry out the spell to turn him human,”_ she said softly. _“Inside he’s still the same Twig you’ve always known; he already understands what you say to him, and now he has the voice of a human he should eventually be able to learn to speak back. I’d be happy to help with reading and writing too, if it helps. Either way, I hope you understand the choice he’s made for you._

 _"Your friend, Kaisa.”_ Johanna blinked. “You had a witch transform you?” she asked gingerly, like she didn’t quite believe it.

Twig loosened his grip on Hilda, turning to face her mother, and Hilda felt a pang at the rise of uncertainty in his eyes. She kept one arm wrapped tightly around him, turning to look up at Johanna too.

“You have to let him stay with us,” she said quickly, feeling her free hand clench into a fist. “He’s my brother; you can’t kick him out!”

“I would never!” Johanna’s expression softened, her gaze falling on the white-haired boy. “Twig, this is all very new to me, so I might not always know what to do, but you’re as much my child as Hilda is, and I’d love for you to stay part of our family.”

He didn’t reply. Instead he ran forwards, out of Hilda’s grasp, throwing his arms tightly around Johanna’s legs. She bent down carefully, gently running a hand through his hair, while Hilda stepped up beside the embrace.

“It’s okay,” Johanna said softly, “I love you.” Twig nodded; after a moment he let go, stepping back; his eyes, damp at the corners, said the thanks his mouth didn’t yet know how to. Hilda felt a swelling of warmth at the sight.

“I can’t wait to tell everyone else about this,” she laughed, taking one of his hands in her own. “I bet Alfur’ll have a big report to write about this.”

“I sure do!” Everyone looked up at once; the elf in question was standing on the counter, his notepad already out. “A deerfox becoming a human; this is the first time something like this has happened in the history of elf-kind. It’ll make headlines all across the Northern Counties!”

Everyone laughed at that; even Twig let out a strange, not-quite-human snicker. Meeting his gaze again, Hilda saw a wonderful warmth blooming in his eyes. Because he had finally crossed the divide between them; he had a sister, and a family, and he was home.


End file.
